The Morning After
by KelliP
Summary: 'Truth be told, this is where she'd rather be.' The morning after their first night together. Something to fill the break till next week, at the complete other end of the angst scale.


**The Morning After**

'_Truth be told, this is where she'd rather be.' The morning after their first night together. Something to fill the break till next week, at the complete other end of the angst scale. _

* * *

Beckett wakes to the feeling of fingers running gently through her hair.

Even with her eyes still shut, she feels the morning sunshine warming her body.

She also feels the heat radiating from the body currently tangled with hers.

She keeps her eyes shut, trying to hold on to the last remnants of sleep, but she can't suppress the small smile that spread across her lips when she feels him place a kiss to her forehead. And when a small chuckle sounds a moment later, she knows she's been busted.

Slowly, she opens her eyes and peers up from under her lashes.

"Morning," she whispers.

"Morning," Castle replies, brushing a lock of hair away that had fallen across her face.

"Time?" It's barely a mumble, and she lets her eyes flutter shut once again.

A small chuckle escaped his lips. "Ten."

"Don't laugh at me," she scolds, turning and burying her face into his chest, trying to hide her lightly blushing cheeks.

"You're cute in the morning," he says, his laughter vibrating through his chest.

She groans; it's too early for his antics. "Coffee," she orders.

"Bossy, too, apparently." She lifts her face to see his eyes twinkling.

"Better get used to it," she smiles. "Now, where are we on my coffee?"

"Geez, can't a guy even get a morning kiss before you kick him out of bed to do your bidding?"

Suppressing an eye roll, she leans up and presses her lips gently to his.

"What about some morning sex?"

She lets out a laugh, and slaps him on the chest. "Now who's demanding?" He ignores her, and runs a hand slowly up her side, leaning in closer.

"What- aren't you up for round three?" His hand brushes across her stomach, and before she has a chance to stop it, she lets out a small giggle.

Her eyes widen in surprise, and she slaps a hand over her mouth as he raises his eyebrows at her, smirking. "Katherine Beckett- did you just _giggle_?"

Her hand still covering her mouth, she slowly turns her head from side to side in disagreement.

"So… not only are you ticklish, but apparently you're a _giggler_ in the mornings as well…" he says, amused. "Oh, there are just so many things I don't know about you."

She narrows her eyes, and sends him a pointed look. "What you _do_ know about me is how I like my coffee."

"Alright, alright! I'm taking the hint. God; you'd think I'd never given you coffee before…" he groans. "I don't know why _I'm_ the one waiting on you; it was _my_ birthday yesterday."

"Exactly. Yesterday. _And_ I already gave you your birthday present." She wiggles her eyebrows, and he laughs.

"And I thoroughly enjoyed it," he grins like a child.

"You know what _I_ would thoroughly enjoy?"

"Coffee?"

"Yep."

He groans. "Anything else?"

"Well, now that you mention it, I could go for some pancakes…" she smiles sweetly.

"I suppose you want it all brought to you in bed, too?" He raises an eyebrow in expectation, causing her to laugh.

"I think I can manage to get up and watch you cook."

"Oh, what an effort that will be," he rolls his eyes, a habit he's apparently picked up after spending so much time with her.

"You know, the quicker you stop complaining and make me breakfast, the quicker round three will be…" He shoots up out of bed instantly. A moment later, a shirt covers her face, muffling her laughter.

"Come on, Kate! Get up! Time to start the day," he says cheerily. She shakes her head at him, but complies, pulling on his overly large shirt. Slipping out of the covers, she searches the floor for her pants before realising they're still his the living room.

Oops.

Instead, she grabs a spare pair of boxers from the draw he's currently rummaging through, rolling them so they fit her small waist. Beside her, Castle pulls a fresh shirt over his head before wrapping his arms around her waist. He leans down and presses a kiss to her forehead, her cheek, her collarbone.

She knows what he's doing; a last-ditch attempt to convince her to forgo the coffee and pancakes and stay in bed with him. But she's hungry, so she simply smirks and pushes him out the door, through his study, and into the open space of his loft.

And that's where she freezes.

They aren't alone.

Sitting at the breakfast counter, eyeing them carefully, are two redheaded women.

"Nice to see you two are finally up," Martha says, a knowing look on her face.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she presses her face into his shoulder.

She doesn't think there's any way she could be more embarrassed.

At least he seems to be as shocked to see his family as she is. His grip around her waist tightens, and a startled expression quickly takes over his face.

"What are you two doing here? I thought you were supposed to be away until tonight."

"Well, we felt bad about leaving you for your birthday so we came back early last night to surprise you," Martha explains. "But, I guess the surprise was on us. We didn't realised you were… entertaining."

Apparently, she was wrong; this is _definitely_ more embarrassing.

"Hey, it's not like I planned this! Kate just showed up," Castle says.

O_h God, Castle. Shut up. Shut up now, before you make you make me look any more like a whore_.

"Yes, well, next time a little notice would be lovely, dear," Martha says, as if they have a schedule.

"Okay, moving on…" he says, narrowing his eyes at his mother, "Do either of you want pancakes?"

"We already ate," Alexis explains with a shake of her head.

"Your loss." He quickly moves to the other side of the counter, pulling out pans and mixing the ingredients.

Deciding she'd better join them instead of standing awkwardly in the middle of his living room, she takes a seat at the counter next to Alexis, whose face looks to be about as red as she imagines hers is. But she doesn't blame her; she's wearing the girl's father's clothes, after all. Not to mention, her clothes are currently scattered across the floor.

Definitely not a great start to the day.

But before she knows it, he's flipping the pancakes out of the pan and onto two plates. Grinning as if he's made a five-star meal, he picks up the syrup and literally _pours_ it on.

"Would you like some pancakes with your syrup?" she asks, lifting an eyebrow in amusement.

He narrows his eyes at her. "You're just jealous." He goes to pour syrup on the second stack, but she quickly reaches out her hand and encloses her fingers around his wrist, halting his movement.

"I think I'd rather not go into a sugar coma." Carefully, she pries the syrup bottle from his hands, takes her stack, and pours a small amount of syrup on the side of her plate.

Castle scoffs and cuts off a wedge, making sure it's soaked with syrup before popping it into his mouth.

"Just be thankful extra syrup is the only thing he's trying to get you to eat," Alexis comments. "I've woken up to some strange foods in my pancakes too many times."

Beckett raises an eyebrow. "Like what?"

"Well, there was the pig-in-the-blanket incident of 2006…" Alexis starts. "I was in a bad mood one day and _may_ have said that I hated breakfast foods for dinner, so he decided to take it upon himself to convince me otherwise. Needless to say, sausages wrapped in pancakes buttered with tomato sauce does _not_ taste good."

"Mphf!" he tries to speak- probably to argue against Alexis- but his mouth is too full of pancake.

"Don't talk with your mouth full!" the three woman all scold. He narrows his eyes at them, and swallows his mouthful in one large gulp.

"You're supposed to be on my side!" he whinges to her.

"Eat your pancakes," she replies.

"But Kate…" God, he can be a child. Thankfully, her phone starts ringing. Saved by the bell.

"Beckett," she answers. It's Esposito. A body dropped.

Damn.

She turns to him, an apologetic expression on her face. "Sorry, Castle, but I have to go."

He drops his fork. "Give me five minutes," he says, jumping up from his chair and running to his room to change. She smiles at his eagerness, and- embarrassingly- collects her clothes from the floor to change, trying to avoid making eye contact with his family as she does so.

By the time she enters his room, he's already brushing his teeth and button a clean shirt at the same time. Well, trying to, at least.

She smirks at him, and grabs his hand, stopping his motion. "Maybe you should sit this one out," she suggests. "Spend the day with your family. They did come back early to see you, after all."

He pouts. "Will you at least come over for dinner?" he mumbles through the mouthful of toothpaste.

She wants rolls her eyes at him, but knows she'll hurt his feelings. "Sounds good," she concedes, and presses a quick kiss to his cheek.

Truth be told, this is where she'd rather be.

* * *

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